


Not a Perfect Woman

by K___Kelly



Series: Just a Little Blue Tiefling [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Growing Up, Headcanon, Isolation, Jester Lavorre Needs a Hug, Jester Lavorre-centric, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Realization, Sad Jester Lavorre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K___Kelly/pseuds/K___Kelly
Summary: Jester starts to come to terms with the reality of her lonely childhood
Relationships: Jester Lavorre & Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea
Series: Just a Little Blue Tiefling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633033
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Not a Perfect Woman

“That woman isn’t nearly as gorgeous as my momma, she can’t hold a fucking candle to the Ruby of the Sea!” Jester is almost turning purple with indignation as she hisses beneath her breath. The lot of them were merely passing through Hupperdook when they ran into a group of performers lauding the beauty and talent of a beautiful air genasi, who is referred to as ‘The Gilded Lily’. Immediately Jester begun whispering much too loudly, pointing out the woman’s numerous flaws. “Her hair isn’t even that shiny and I bet she can’t sing at all and you guys KNOW that my momma is the best singer in all of Nicodranas and probably in all of Exandria! You've heard her!” Her voice jumps a full octave during those last two exclamations and Fjord and Caleb simultaneously make gentle shushing motions. 

Usually, Jester is willing to give almost anyone the benefit of the doubt and pettiness isn’t in her nature, but there is a special sort of possession and protectiveness when it comes to the Ruby of the Sea. Even with Caleb and Fjord’s frantic motions she continues to list Marion’s talents and accomplishments. “I bet _she_ could never seduce a mobster like my mom did TWICE and technically…” Her words trail off into unexpected silence. One of the performers is now standing in front of her, a girl, a tiefling, maybe a little younger than Jester whose skin is the exact same creamy shade of gold as the woman on the poster. 

“Hi, my name is Danuela Lillin, would you like to come to our show? My mom and I perform together, she’s incredible, I’m sure you would enjoy it, _everyone_ does.” There is no bitterness in her voice, no hint that she’s heard any of Jester’s jealous commentary, the rest of the Mighty Nein recognize the genuine note of pride in her voice that is eerily similar to Jester’s, whenever she talks about Marion. 

“Y-You perform _with_ your mom?”

“Yup! She’s a singer I just dance I’m not too good at singing.”

“Oh”. Her response is uncharacteristically short and even the single syllable comes out strained and quiet. The unenthusiastic response prompts the girl to move on to more receptive customers. No one in the group speaks. They all watch Jester as she stares at the girl who moves gracefully through the crowd handing out flyers and singing the praises of their performance troupe. There is something oddly hungry in the blue tiefling’s gaze as she watches Danuela interact with potential audience members laughing and joking. She shakes her head to try and rid herself of the cheerful tinkling sound coming from the other girl’s bracelets and anklets that jingle musically as she moves. She tugs gently on the delicate chain piercing between her horn and her ear, muttering under her breath. “Mine is way prettier.”

There is no conviction in her voice. It is low and toneless and there is a vacant far-off look in her eyes. Somewhere in her mind Jester is remembering four walls, a window with heavy drapes, and a door that used to make up her whole world. She remembers the uncontainable excitement that would bubble over whenever she heard the door creak open, it was always Marion or Bluud or sometimes Nadine but any one of them was always a welcome guest. Of course, there was a special reserve of affection set aside just for Marion. Sometimes though, the reserve would get near full to bursting, because no matter how many times she tells herself or others that her momma came to sing her to sleep every night…she knows it’s not true. It can’t be, her mother is a courtesan, the majority of her work is at night. But, Jester has only recently stopped believing what Marion had told her, only now is she beginning to untangle the mix of kindness and lies.

**_“Every night even when you don’t see or hear me I always come in to kiss my Sapphire goodnight and sing her a lullaby.”_ **

That isn’t true and even then she knew deep down in the part of her that would _ache_ for more consistent touch and affection. She _knew_ that there had been days and once even a full week that went by without hearing from or even seeing her mother or really anyone besides brief moments of greeting when Bluud would bring up meals and treats for her. In one respect, she recognizes that she was spoiled. She had every rich food imaginable, every candy and sweet thing that her mind could dream up, any toy, any dress she could ever desire! 

_So why do I still wake up with an empty feeling in my chest whenever I dream about the night I left home?_

She remembers it all in vivid detail. The excitement, the fear, and the underlying expectation that she hadn’t known was there until it was shattered. Until the moment her mother’s silhouette faded from the window, Jester had been sure she would come with her. She had been absolutely certain her mother was capable of overcoming her fears. She knew that Marion would never send her only daughter into the unknown world completely alone. With plenty of money sure, but absolutely no experience. Until that night she could never have guessed that there were places in the world where the wind could get cold enough to bite through her warmest cloak and dress, but there are... 

She backtracks through the memories scolding herself for false memories, the full week Marion hadn’t come was an accident. A powerful party had come through, criminals of some sort most likely and Marion hadn’t had enough resources or influence at the time to refuse them service. They demanded near constant entertainment from her and other expert courtesans of the Lavish Chateau. Jester thinks back to how distressed her mother had been at the end of that awful week, how she had cried and apologized, but she shrinks away from the memory of her own response. 

**_“It’s okay momma you weren’t gone the whole time you came in every night to kiss me goodnight although I’m sure you didn’t have time for a lullaby, but that’s okay I understand.”_ **

The image is clear in her mind, the tiny tiefling girl looking up with wide, trusting violet eyes at her mother who is choking back a ragged sob. Suddenly, Jester sits up with a jolt, she hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but she wakes up, her face is wet and that something intangible is _aching_ in her chest. She angrily wipes away the tears. _Stupid. You don’t have anything real to cry about. You’re not Caleb or Beau or Fjord or Nott or Yasha. They have reasons to wake up crying. No parents or awful ones. Evil gods and evil teachers. Fire, saltwater, pain, death. Why am I sad? I don’t even deserve to be sad! My momma loves me I know that, I love her I know that…she did her best I’m sure of that…_

Her mind jumps back to the golden tiefling girl handing around posters and walking through the streets, free, dancing even, giving out her _full_ name out to anyone she pleases. Jester had never even said her full name out loud until she met Fjord in Port Damali, before that no one was allowed to know she was Jester Lavorre, Marion Lavorre’s daughter. She reaches out in the dark, her fingers find the charm around her neck, cold and roughly heart-shaped, tucked underneath her frilled nightgown. 

Jester knows her mother is a good woman, she has never once doubted that. But…she is slowly realizing that she isn’t a perfect one. 


End file.
